Favorable Events

January 4, 2012 § Leave a comment

He favors a turn of events. His dog in his lap, snoring gently, as he types he thinks a favorable turn of events is certainly in hand. Why not. After all, he’s lived his life by Code and Morality.

He sacrificed his heart for his home, his home for his family, his family for his life. Well, alright, so Code and Morality changed with circumstances, but, hey, so does the world.

He nods to himself, yes, he’s due for a favorable change of events. Maybe a new home, new money, new family… maybe. Maybe they’ll come back. His fingers pause over the keyboard and he smiles.

His teeth are rotted. Maybe as rotted as his stomach. Maybe, even, as rotted as his flesh. Not his mind, though, no. His mind is as sharp as ever — as his broken teeth.

There are no more sirens, they have stopped days ago. The people have stopped screaming through the streets. The haunting sounds of crying have stopped, too. There used to be children who lived next-door, some lived down the street a ways in either direction, and he wonders where they might have gotten off to. Survivors? If God wills great things, they are survivors.

He nods again, this time his vision blurring against the raging ache searing through his muscles. His smile grows with the pain. Well, maybe his mind isn’t as sharp as he thinks.

His decaying heart aches with the losses outside his door, he faces the same offenses this side of his door, but his smile grows wider with every shock wave of miserable hunger-pulse. It must be some sort of sickness that rots the brain. First the flesh, then the organs, then the muscles and the brain is a muscle. One too weak to stave off the terrible impulses that grip him. One too weak to erase the last two weeks.

He should not have stopped for the dog — he knew better with the panic around him. He thought if he could save the dog he might save a piece of humanity. He could bring it home to his baby girl.

If he hadn’t stopped he wouldn’t have run into the fellow who looked a bit sallow. If he hadn’t put the car in park he wouldn’t be sitting here now with his wife rising behind him – he knew they’d come back. If he hadn’t opened his door he wouldn’t have tasted his daughter.

Oh, God. Dear, God. My baby. Shit, I’m so hungry.

He smiles still larger, laying a hand on the dog’s side which rises and falls with comfortable sleep. It takes a mighty loyal beast to love… to trust… a monster from Hell. His head drops to his chest and he shivers with the pain.

I love you, buddy, but… Gezuz… I’m so hungry.

Who knows, maybe the dog will come back, too.

Day 3 – 365 Stories

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